Just saying
by hawkster55
Summary: The aftermath of the crash is hard on all of them, and sometimes putting on a brave face and pretending it's okay won't work. That doesn't mean he's not determined to try. Spoilers for the last episode.
1. Chapter 1

They'd got Walter back, thank God.

It'd been a week since the 197-IQ idiot had driven a Ferrari off the side of a cliff, and things had begun to settle down with Scorpion. Walter was at home in the garage on bed rest, and there was always someone downstairs in case he needed them. They'd made sure of that.

Drew was in Portland. Paige tried not to think about him much, but she always turned the radio on when his matches were aired. Sentiment, she supposed.

She'd never heard his name mentioned.

Ralph seemed happy, though, and that was the main thing. He spent hours with the rest of the team, doing activities that Paige was sure she wouldn't understand, but he seemed happy. She had worried that having Drew gone, again, would affect her son. Now she worried that it didn't.

But he was happy, and that was the main thing. Or so she told herself.

Paige, meanwhile, had spent hours in Walter's room, watching him rest. She was sure he'd been awake for at least some of the time, but he didn't say anything. It calmed her to see that he was still alive, still tangible.

She wondered what Drew would have thought.

Toby had cornered her, once, as she descended from 'Walt-watch'.  
"Heard from Drew?"  
She turned around, surprised, and looked at him across the room. He untangled himself from his headphones, stood up and walked over.  
"He's doing fine." It troubled her that she didn't know if that was true.  
Toby frowned at her thoughtfully. She held his gaze.  
"How's Walter?"  
"He's improving, I think. He's sleeping more easily, eating more. It's looking promising," she smiled, back on familiar territory.  
"Good." Toby paused, apparently turning something over in his mind. "How come Drew doesn't get that many words?"  
She had no answer, so she settled on frowning at him instead.  
"Just saying," Toby said, holding his hands up in surrender and retreating to behind his desk again. "You need couch time, you're welcome to it."  
He shoved his headphones back on and started reading, but Paige could tell he was still watching her. She glared at him.

Then Happy brought Ralph through from her workshop, and everything got swept aside in the wake of the school run.

* * *

She arrived for the Walt-watch shift one afternoon. Sylvester was taking her son to a Super Fun Guy convention for the day, and Happy was with Cabe choosing government-funded equipment for the garage. She worried about leaving Sylvester alone with her genius child, imagined his anxiety around crowds and, well, everything else. But Sly had assured her that he could do it, and she didn't need a PhD from Harvard to see the determination in his eyes, the desire to give Ralph a great time. So she had agreed.

Which left her and Toby.

The first thing that she noticed when she walked through the garage door was the prog metal blaring from the radio on the doc's desk. She dumped her bags on the couch and strode across the room to turn the music down. Then she looked around for Toby. If he'd kept Walter up with the noise, she was going to be complaining. At length.

Toby wasn't visible from her position at his desk, and she didn't feel like looking far, so she quickly gave up on that and went upstairs to check on Walter. She cracked open the door to his room and saw him, sitting up in bed and typing furiously at his laptop.  
"Hey," she said. "How long have you been awake?"  
"Three hours forty-two minutes," he replied, gaze fixed on the screen.  
Paige frowned. "Did Toby bring you the laptop? You're not meant to have it up here -"  
"Haven't seen Toby, I brought it up myself," Walter muttered. She waited for him to elaborate, but he remained transfixed by whatever fascinating problem he was solving. Or creating. She wasn't sure anymore.  
"You brought it up yourself? Walter, you know you're not meant to be leaving that bed for too long, much less carrying objects up stairs," she frowned.  
"I'm fine," the genius replied, continuing to ignore her concern. Paige stared at him in vague disbelief before turning on her heel and walking out the door again.

She was going to _kill_ Toby.

* * *

His desk was still vacant when she got back, but now she looked more closely she noticed several empty coffee cups littered around his workspace. Fantastic.  
"Toby?" she called. "You here?"  
No reply. Paige made her way to the kitchen, starting to get more concerned now. There were no signs that anyone had been here since Happy had finished her shift six hours ago. Paige absentmindedly cleared a few empty protein bar wrappers away, thinking. Maybe she'd try the backyard next.

She opened the door and stepped out, listening carefully over the sounds of the traffic for anything that might lead her to the doc. A quiet sort of snuffling noise drifted to her ears from around the corner, and she followed it to the source.

Toby was sitting against the wall of the garage, long legs stretched out in front of him. His hat had slipped down over his face and he appeared to be dozing. Paige smiled to herself; it was rare to catch sight of the geniuses actually sleeping, especially Toby who seemed to be constantly awake and alert at all hours of the night.

A drop of water hit her face, and she glanced up to see dark clouds accumulating in the sky. She nudged Toby gently.  
"C'mon, doc, it's going to rain."  
He groaned and murmured something unintelligible.  
"You can't stay out here," she tried again. This time he stirred slightly.  
"Paige?" At least, that's what she _thought_ he said.  
"Right here. It's going to rain, Toby, you can sleep inside."  
He got to his feet unsteadily, adjusting his hat, and walked past her, back into the kitchen. She frowned, then turned and followed him inside.  
"Are you okay?"  
"Fine," he muttered.  
"I'm on Walt-watch, you can go home if you want. Get some sleep," she offered. "How much coffee did you have, exactly?"  
He shot her a glare, as though offended by the very question.  
"I'll stay here."  
 _Right_. "Toby, what's wrong?"  
"Where's Ralph?" he asked, ignoring her.  
"With Sylvester, at the Super Fun Guy convention." She had never seen him like this before.  
Toby blanched almost imperceptibly.  
"Right, yeah."  
He made to walk back to his desk, or maybe the couch. She didn't really care which it was, because she grabbed his arm and stopped him before he got that far. He paused, then slowly turned around to face her.  
"Get off my arm, Paige."  
"Tell me what's going on," she said, noticing the dark circles under his eyes for the first time. "When was the last time you slept for any decent length of time?"  
"Just then, you saw me," he said without missing a beat.  
"That's not what I asked."  
He looked at her more carefully then, as though considering his answer. "About a week ago."

She wasn't all that surprised, to tell the truth. The geniuses were prone to foregoing sleep and simply living on coffee, in the same way that they seemed to have an aversion to actual meals and lived on protein bars instead. But that was most common during an important case, or when they were working on something that they couldn't stop thinking about. This was completely different.

"Why?" she asked. He stared at her as though she was crazy, before wrenching his arm out of her grasp and retreating to his desk.  
"You told Walt how you feel yet?" he called. She could tell he was just doing it to put her off guard. "Drew's out the picture, you really hanging around? Still? That's not healthy, Paige."  
"Stop it," she told him. He shot her a guarded look before shoving headphones over his ears and shutting his eyes.  
"Just saying."


	2. Chapter 2

Paige locked herself in Walter's room for the rest of her shift. Toby was being even more annoying than usual, and she just wanted to get away from his constant jibes. She was all too aware of how badly her non-relationship with Walter needed fixing; she had been furious at him for ignoring her son's calls until a news channel had informed her that he'd driven off a _cliff_. If that didn't scream communication issues, she didn't know what did. She certainly didn't need Toby reminding her of it. And although she was determinedly not admitting it to herself, seeing the behaviourist so off his game had shaken her a little. So here she was, hiding in Walter's loft and watching him sleep.

On the bed, Walter was snoring, the laptop discarded to the side. He looked so peaceful there, with none of the pent up energy or determination that she was so used to seeing when they did cases together. She wondered how geniuses managed to switch their minds off to go to sleep. It was hard enough for normals, but a genius's brain activity was at such a high level... No doubt that was why it was often so hard to detach Ralph from her laptop and get him to bed.

She was awakened from her musings by Walter stirring. He started to mumble something, and Paige wondered briefly whether she should leave before she heard anything he wouldn't want her to.  
"Paige..."  
Like that, for example.  
Toby would have a field day if he ever found out.

Paige didn't know why the behaviourist had such an interest in matchmaking. She may have been a normal, but she wasn't stupid; she knew he had been talking to Walter about her. Once she had walked in and seen the two of them having an argument over a large whiteboard with a stick figure diagram in the bottom right corner. She'd stayed out of sight, trying not to overhear anything, but she couldn't help recognising her own name. More than once.

She liked Walter, she really did. But he was a dangerous role model for her son, and then there was Drew. Drew, who had left his family for his career, again. But when he had been in the area, she had honestly thought it would work out between them. Her ex-husband seemed determined to win his son's approval, and Ralph had enjoyed having his father around. But every time she looked back on those memories now, of Drew taking Ralph to baseball games, and playing video games, and helping with the science fair project, it became painfully clear to her that the bond between her son and his father had relied heavily on using Walter and the rest of the team as a catalyst. Sure, Drew had been eager to learn how to communicate with his son, but it was Scorpion who had been there consistently, putting in the effort to keep Ralph stimulated at school, encouraging him to embrace his intelligence. She remembered the report card Ralph had brought home that day, stamped with Ds, and him grinning as he showed it to his father.

That wasn't the son she knew. Drew's presence had changed him, and maybe not for the better.

And she'd told herself she was being ridiculous, that it was wishful thinking, or bitterness that told her they'd be better off without Drew. She'd tried to make it work and she'd been abandoned yet again.

Ralph was spending more time with Scorpion with Drew gone in Portland. Paige didn't know whether she was happy or scared about that. The garage was no place for a child, but Ralph seemed so happy there. She just worried that he'd grow isolated, or reckless, like the rest of Scorpion. Because they were all damaged goods; Walter's recent stunt was evidence enough of that. She didn't want Ralph getting mixed up in that.

The lump in the bed shifted.  
"Paige?" Walter guessed before rolling over to face her.  
"How did you know?" Paige asked.  
"Sylvester's breathing is heavier, and the rest don't sit over there if they stay."  
"How do you feel?"  
Walter raised an eyebrow at her, which she took as a positive sign. "You are aware that my low EQ-"  
She sighed. "Does anything hurt? Do you feel dizzy, or sick, or... I don't know, does anything seem wrong?"  
"No," he smiled. "I'll be up soon enough, and the team will be back up and running."  
She wondered if that meant Cabe, too. But it was too soon to ask him, so she held her tongue.  
"Paige?" he asked. He sounded... cautious.  
"Walter?"  
"Are you going to Portland?"  
She paused. "No, I don't think so."  
"But you were going to before I drove off a cliff."  
She didn't deny it. Lying wouldn't work on him, anyway. "That was different."  
"You wanted to keep Ralph safe. From me."  
"It was different, Walter."  
"But now that I nearly killed myself, you're sticking around?"  
"No! Yes! No... Walter, that's not why. Staying here a little longer has given me some room to think, see how Ralph and I cope without Drew. It's another big change. I was too hasty when I decided to leave. And seeing Ralph's reaction to leaving you guys behind... I couldn't do it to him."  
There was a silence.  
"Portland's cold."  
"Yes," she smiled. Sadly.  
"You're staying."  
"Yes."  
"Without Drew."  
"Yes."  
He smiled sleepily. "Good."

She watched him fall asleep again, wondering where the conversation had come from. She hadn't even been sure of her responses at the time, but looking back she was certain that she couldn't leave Walter here. Or, she corrected herself, she couldn't take Ralph away from the friends and stability he'd found here. Walter was her boss, and she already had a child with another man. Anything between them now was just friendship, and that's all it could ever be.

Walter may have a heart of gold, but he was undeniably dangerous. To himself and to her son.

* * *

 **Thanks for the great feedback for the previous chapter! No Toby in this one, but don't worry, he's just being angsty off-screen.**

 **If you think I've gone wrong with the characterisation, or if there's mistakes I've made, or you want to see more of one character, or _whatever_ , please drop me a review. This is totally un-beta'ed and I'm writing as I go, so it's up to you guys to tell me what you want.**


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